To Marry A Weasley
by AlinaLotus
Summary: The first time he asks her to marry him, she says no. Good thing perseverance was synonymous with Weasley.


**Really, really branching out on this one, as I don't think I've ever done canon Ron/Hermione. **

_You don't marry someone you can live with; you marry the person who you cannot live without. _

The first time he asks her to marry him, she says no.

It's the first sunrise after Voldemort's death, and they're huddled together in what used to be an alcove off the Great Hall. Huge chunks of the ceiling are missing and though they- the survivors- have lit fires all around, Hermione presses herself farther into Ron's warmth.

"Are you doing this to punish me?" He asks after a moment of thick silence.

If she weren't so tired (and if the smell of blood wasn't around her and her throat wasn't caked with screams and her face soaked in tears) she would have pushed him away, affronted and angry, because how could he think so low of her? She wouldn't do that to him, wouldn't do that to herself.

"It's not...Ron. You left me." She says, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"But I came back, Hermione. I came back."

"You never should have left in the first place. I...I begged you, Ron, and you, once again took what was offered- my heart- and trampled it."

"I know that. _I know._" He says, clinging tightly to her.

"Then you know why I can't say yes, why I won't. Not...not yet." She moves to stand, but his arms are strong even after so much fighting and he doesn't let her go.

"But I love you." He says in a strangled voice, and the only other time she's heard him like this is when he came back, when he was telling her and Harry about the Deluminator and the ball of light going into his chest and her saying his name...

"I've always loved you," She counters, and his arms slack and she moves away. "And I've waited. Cried and hurt and dreamed...for you. So now it's your turn."

She walks toward one of the fires where she sees Luna and Neville holding hands, leaving Ron in silence, and the pieces of her heart that are so haphazardly strewn together tremble, threatening to shatter again, as she fights the temptation to run back to him.

**oooo**

The second time is a year later. Hermione is finding it easier to smile these days- they all are- and he catches her off guard while she's laughing at Ginny and Harry and George playing some new form of Quidditch they've claimed to have invented.

She stares at him, not entirely surprised because he is a Weasley and they are as stubborn as they come, and she's known since that night in the mangled ruins of Hogwarts that he wouldn't give up. Truly, it's one of the reasons she loves him so much, because perseverance is something she's always admired and he has it in excess from his mother.

"I..." She says, blinking to avoid getting lost in Ron's blue eyes. They are twinkling in the nearing dusk, and his lips are still pulled into a smile.

"Hermione." He says, nearly whispers, and his voice is husky. He raises his hand to her jaw, his long fingers pressed against her pulse, down her neck.

It isn't that she doesn't want to. She couldn't love another man now if she tried. She's known since she was eleven where her fate lay, and she's always known that through the heartbreak and kisses and tears, Ron was worth it, worth the wait. It's simply that everything is so _new_, now. There fates aren't linked to Voldemort anymore, and though there is the icy clench of loss around them still (it hurts to think Fred's name, and even now there's something not quite right about George, like a part of him died, but they're all dead inside to an extent), moving on is a possibility and freedom is threaded through everything.

She just wants to bask it all in, to live in the moment and not think about what could be looming ahead. And maybe she's a little cautious because though Ron loves her- she knows, yes, she knows it- he still holds more of herself than she's comfortable with. Although that's a constant in her life, really.

"No." And there's a hint of acceptance in Ron's grin, and maybe some reluctance, too. Like he expected this, but he wasn't going to lose his chance asking. Hermione can't help but return his smile.

"Love you." He says, nuzzling into her neck.

"Honestly you two, get a sodding room." Ginny says, nudging her brother in the back with the end of her broomstick, but she laughs as Ron flings a bit of mud at her, and they all follow George back into the house for a round of Molly's famous hot chocolate.

**oooo**

The third time is six months after the second. A Ministry function, and while she supposes it's a romantic enough setting, what with the candlelit chandeliers and the fine wine, it's all a bit too fancy, in her opinion. Ron senses this a mile off, and the words are hardly out of his mouth before he shakes his head and sighs.

"I knew it. You'll never say yes."

Hermione shrugs. She can't really tell him yes or no, at this point. Not that she can't see herself married to him, of course, when he's all but jammed the idea down her throat. But why ruin what they have? They're perfectly happy, in her eyes, and while she, as always, admires Ron's persistence, she really doesn't see the logic of sacrificing what they have. This is familiar territory now, and she's content.

"It's too practiced, Ronald. And this...this place..." She gestures to the marble floors and dark wood tables. "Is too..."

"Expected." Ron fills in the gap of her sentence.

She grimaces, because it makes her sound heartless and passionless and what could be worse for a Gryffindor? She opens her mouth, but Ron holds up a silencing hand.

"It's okay. Really," he says, giving her hand an assuring squeeze. "I'll wait. Forever."

Which is ironic because that's all he's asking of her anyway.

**oooo**

Three years pass, and the eighth and final time marriage is proposed Hermione is bloody and her face streaked with a lot of sweat and some tears, and Ron looks liable to pass out any second. Harry, beside him, is looking slightly green and has dug his fingernails so deep into his palm that he's sure he's bleeding.

"A girl." Molly is beaming, a few happy tears falling from her eyes, and Ginny is squealing and hugging Ron from behind. Harry gives a hysterical laugh and then the doctor holds up a bundle, tiny and fragile.

"Rose." Hermione whispers as her baby is handed to her, and the sunlight from the window in the ward catches a head full of flaming hair. She looks up at Ron, who is staring in fascination at the little girl-_ his_ little girl- in Hermione's arms. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and it's beyond him how anything could be so perfect, and how he could be so lucky. Two women now have absolute claim to his heart, and he's never felt so scared and so happy at the same time.

"Rose." Ron confirms, giving a hearty swallow.

"She's amazing." Arthur says, and he has that prideful smile on his face as he shakes Ron's hand and kisses Hermione's cheek, the smile that he wore when he gave Ginny away to Harry, the smile that he gives to George every time he fights the loss of his other half and comes out on top. It's the smile of a father, one that Ron will now wear.

The room empties, leaving them alone for a moment. Harry promises to call Hermione's parents, who were unlucky enough to be on holiday when she went into labor. Hermione knows they will be as in love with their granddaughter as the Weasley's are.

"So," Hermione says as Rose gives a sleepy yawn and Hermione cuddles her into her chest, "what do you say, daddy? How about making me an honest woman?"

Ron stares, dumbfounded, back at her. Hermione laughs exhaustively, leaning back on her pillows. "I'll take that as a yes."

**As ever, feedback is appreciated. Still unsure about this one, but canon can be nice sometimes too. In small doses, anyway. **


End file.
